


Raw

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Established Relationship, Female Kíli, Ficlet, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since they wouldn’t dare shave anywhere else, Bofur shears Kíli’s privates in private.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raw

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for iavalir’s “Dwarves see shaving off their beards as a sign of grieving and shame. But for some, because shaving is so taboo, the act has developed a sort of sexual allure for them, but to keep with their culture's standards they never shave their partners' beards. Best to explore in areas not often exposed to the public. Bofur and Kíli are among those who engage in the act. Nothing gets Kíli wetter than having Bofur shave her pubes. What if someone finds out? Would Bofur face consequences for "defiling" one of the royal line? (alternatively, this can simply be the two lovebirds exploring their shared kink.)” prompt on [The Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/11476.html?thread=22830804#t22830804).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Despite all of Rivendell’s flaws—mainly too-green food and too-lax music and the general uptightness of the elves—it’s _so_ good to have privacy again. They can fool around on the road, of course, but with Thorin and Fíli watching over Kíli, not to mention eleven other witnesses, they can only get so intimate. Kíli and Bofur often have to settle for quick kisses, maybe a hand job here and there, a fast blow a little off the path while the others are sleeping. When Kíli’s hair gets too long, she can let Bofur carefully slice _just a bit_ off the ends, but he could never takes his razor to her face. Thorin would have his head if he tried to trim her beard, and she only dares cut it in tiny increments, never when he’s around to watch. 

But in the sanctity of the Rivendell washrooms, Kíli can sit on the toilet with her trousers and boots and even underwear off, Bofur kneeling between her legs. She holds her tunic up and out of the way, scrunched over her breasts, while he carefully draws his razor through the thick mat of curls that hides her pussy. The door is tightly locked, because if anyone walked in on Bofur defiling a princess, his quest would end right here. Kíli just feels lucky that she’s found a man brave enough to weather the taboo and smart enough to help hide their predilections. He can’t give her the exquisite pleasure of being shaved anywhere else on her body, but between her legs, no one else will know. In this special privacy, Bofur cuts off neat little rows of coarse fur, leaving just raw skin. Kíli’s flesh tingles in the wake of each newly exposed patch, and she shivers deliciously; nothing feels quite so sinful, so decadent, so very _naked_ as being shaved. She’s made truly bare before him, and his breath only makes it better, blowing across her to scatter the severed hairs. He swipes his thick fingers over her moist lips, clearing the way. 

Then he pauses, grinning lecherously. Kíli’s breath is coming hard, fast, and she can feel herself growing wet beneath his attentions and his gaze. His soft finger pads brush through the dark tufts, spreading the foamed white paste through it. He brings the razor back against her skin, tilted just so to scrape along her curves. It’s a dangerous feeling, but she trusts Bofur implicitly. He treats her like something special, precious, face bent close and eyeing his work. Kíli keeps crushing her tunic and breasts tighter against her chest in an effort to see more. She peers down the slope of her body and memorizes every detail she can. The kiss of the blade is intoxicating, but what it leaves is even more sensual. She feels so delicate, so vulnerable when her skin’s exposed, and the fact that it’s so forbidden makes it all the more alluring. To have a man see her like this, worse, to have a man be the instrument of her shame, would see them both thrown out of Erebor. But the pleasure it brings her is worth it, and evidently, Bofur agrees. 

Bofur clears the way with elegant ease. He leaves some of the scruff along her stomach, but between her legs, he catches every last hair. When he’s removing the last lone strip, hovering just above her pink lips, Kíli’s breath catches. He moves torturously slow, then flips the blade and draws the blunt edge down to scrape the detached hairs away. Kíli spreads her thighs wider, half hoping he’ll find more strays.

But her thick, dark fuzz is gone, leaving only stimulated skin, flushed from being scraped. Without ever looking away, Bofur reaches for the bowl at his side. He tips it gradually over her stomach, letting the clear water carry away all the foam and fur that’s left. It’s so cold that it almost stings, running down between her inner thighs and clinging to her pussy, lapping over her own juices that linger along the slit. Bofur pauses once to let her breathe, and Kíli leans her head back against the wall, then nods for him to finish pouring. His fingers run through the water near the end, guiding it through the right spots.

Then she’s completely clean, and his fingers are still there, brushing over her. She looks down to watch the awe and hunger fight in his face, lust winning out. Licking his mouth, he half-moans, “You’re _so_ beautiful.”

“I wish you could shave me everywhere,” she murmurs. She can’t help but think of his razor gliding up her arms, down her legs, under armpits, even over her chin, but of course, all of those places could be seen. Bofur, always one for the bright side, waves his hand like it doesn’t matter. At least they have this. He wipes the razor off on a rag by the bowl, then drops it inside. 

He gives her face one last, burning look, and then he shoves his head against her crotch. Kíli arches and moans the second his tongue’s inside her, her hands fisting quickly around his braids. Bofur then proceeds to eat her out so vigorously that she has to bite her cheek not to scream, only hoping the fruits of their labour don’t have the others busting down the door.


End file.
